Saudade
by Movak
Summary: The Twelfth Doctor reflects on love, past regrets, and what-ifs.


**A/N: Hello! This is my first time writing a story for Doctor Who. I hope that Twelve isn't OOC. This is a one shot that could possibly turn into a multi-chapter story depending on how it is received. Let me know what you think I hope that you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

The Doctor paced around the TARDIS' console. He was alone for the moment. He was supposed to meet Clara later that day. For now, he was musing. He had been musing a lot lately, but he couldn't help it. He found that this older, darker version of himself had the tendency to brood. He supposed that musing was better than his normal brooding. He had been thinking about a former companion who had been on his mind for quite some time now. When he thought about her, he couldn't suppress the feelings of sorrow, pride, regret, and loneliness. He regretted how his tenth incarnation had treated her. He regretted not seeing who she truly was until it was too late. He was upset and disappointed that he'd turned her into a soldier. He hated that she had left him. Despite this, he was proud of the woman she had become. Yes, he had been thinking about Martha Jones.

Clara reminded him of Martha. They were his equals, and they had saved him on numerous occasions. Clara had helped all of his incarnations. Martha had saved his tenth self almost every trip. They were his best friends, and would have done anything for him if he had asked. However, the similarities ended there. Martha was fiercely independent. She had been before she started traveling with him, and continued to be after she left. She rarely needed saving. She saved herself more than he had saved her. Martha had been selfless. He remembered being impressed when he had witnessed her selflessness on the moon. She had supported him in 1913 and 1969, even though the circumstances for her were less than ideal. She had walked the Earth for him. Martha Jones had saved the world, and no one remembered it. Then, she left him on her own accord. Ten had told her that she was a star, and she was. She was _his star_.

Ten had been _thick_. _**Incredibly thick**_**. ** He hadn't appreciated Martha during her time with him. He would later come to regret it. He knew that Martha had feelings for him, but he had rebuffed them. Eventually, he ended up returning her feelings. However, he was still suffering from the loss of Rose. He didn't want to go through the same thing again. It didn't change how he felt about Martha. He just had to work harder not show it. He could not and would not deny that he loved her. He loved hugging her. He loved her strength and her courage. She was probably one of the most intelligent people that he had known. Well…as intelligent as one could be for a pudding brain. He admired her beauty and her enthusiasm for a new adventure. They were equals. This was another fact the he couldn't deny. Had he been the man he was now, he would have told her how much she had meant to him. He would still tell her now, if she wasn't with Mickey.

_Mickey Smith_.Her husband. He was still in a state of disbelief. Mickey did not deserve her. _What did she see in him?! _ He believed that she'd made a husband error. When he saw the two of them together, it had broken his hearts more than Tom or regenerating into Eleven. He could barely deal with **Tom** as it was. But now, **Mickey!** He was exasperated. Her marriage to Mickey had fueled the odd sense of betrayal that had been lingering since she'd announced her engagement to Tom. He knew that his feelings were unwarranted and foolish, but he couldn't suppress them. It didn't help that she kept gushing about "**Mr. Perfect**". He should have been the one that she was gushing about, not some _pudding brain_. _Hadn't she realized that she was tearing his hearts into little pieces?_ Of course she hadn't. She wasn't aware that she was dancing on the pieces of his broken hearts. He had his chance, and he ruined it. She had moved on. He should have as well, but he didn't. He should've told her how he had felt right then and there. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe he wouldn't be the way he is now.

_Should've, Could've, Would've_. He had been thinking like that a lot lately. He should have done this. He could have done that. He would have done this. But, the bottom line was _**he **__**didn't**_. Now, he was miserable. His previous regeneration had wanted Martha to travel with him again. He was glad that she didn't. The bow tied idiot surely would have found a way to muck it up. Besides, she would never leave her _husband_. He inwardly cringed. He wondered if she was still married. It had been a few years…things happen. _They might not be still married at this point. Martha might be a single woman._ A part of him was filled with glee and hope at the idea. Another part of him knew that it was wrong to feel that way, but he didn't care. Perhaps, he could pay her a visit. He could always check up on her, and still have more than enough time to pick up Clara. He had a time machine after all. He just might do that.

But…_would she recognize him?_ He wasn't her Doctor anymore. _ How would she feel about this face? Would she accept him? Would she see him? Would she realize that he would always be her Doctor regardless of the body he was in? What if she was still married? Would _**he**_ be able to handle that?_ He sighed. He had changed so much since the last time they saw each other. He didn't doubt for a _second that she had changed as well. He was older, darker, more guarded. What if she accepted him? What if she wasn't married? What if he declared his love for her? What if she kissed him? _**He didn't even like hugs for pity's sake!** He had been thinking about a lot of what ifs lately as well. This new regeneration had him going through some sort of existential crisis. He still doubted that he was a good man, much less a decent one. _He wasn't,_ he had thought on numerous occasions. He still believed it to this day. _What kind of man pines after another man's wife? _"The kind that didn't deserve her," he answered aloud. _**Rassilon! This was complicated!**_ He sighed heavily. He wanted nothing more than to waltz into her house, embrace her, and **show** **her** how much he loved her. Alas, he couldn't do that.

He was starting to rethink his plan, but something was stopping him. He **needed** to see her. He **needed **to _**know**_. The desire to **know **how Martha was doing burned more than anything had before. It burned more than the desire to know if there was a creature that was perfect at hiding had. He wasn't exactly sure what he wanted to now (which was a rarity), but he had to know. This fueled his desire to see her even more. However, he wasn't sure if he could handle the answer or the consequences of his visit. He frowned. He had been doing that a lot lately as well. He knew that he loved her, and he couldn't stand the thought of her with another man. He also knew he would eventually (_and __**reluctantly**_) have to accept it, if that was still the case. The same way that he had to accept Danny; he would have to accept Mickey. But she was _**his**_ Martha. _**His star. His Nightingale (Not Jack's!) **_He would never admit to feeling more than a little jealous when he heard Jack call her that. _**His DOCTOR!**_ He wanted to give her all of time and space. He knew that humans had short lives, but she was more than worth it. He decided to continue with his plan, not that he really had one. He put in the coordinates, and the TARDIS started wheezing. He was on his way to see _her_. **His Doctor**.

**A/N: I hope that you all enjoyed it! Let me know if you want more. Also, please check out my other stories for L&amp;O: SVU and Transformers. Thanks! Reviews are love!**


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